


Baby, You Ain't Looking Right

by romanoff



Series: Blue Lips, Blue Veins [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bondage, Dubious Consent, Kidnapping, M/M, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 15:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2777891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanoff/pseuds/romanoff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A thing that will never make into the official timeline of Blue Lips, Blue Veins, since I went down a different route.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, You Ain't Looking Right

**Author's Note:**

> So basically the usual, Ty being a dick bag. Tony consents, but as mentioned, it's dubious. This was supposed to be part of the actual story, but as the plot progressed I realised it wouldn't work. Thank God for that.
> 
> Also, it's relatively spoiler free. I mean, you know Ty's HYDRA and that he's a dodgy fuck, so.

“Next time I’m topping,” Tony says lazily, letting Ty push the pillow under his hips.

“Hmm,” Ty hums, fingers dabbling over Tony’s ass “whatever you say, honey.”

Tony hears the pop of the lube cap, feels the sharp dig of Ty’s teeth into that place where ass meets thigh. He bucks, a sharp cry coming from his lips.

“What the fuck?” He spits, trying to twist round but stopped by Ty’s hand on his back. “Why would you — ”

Ty runs his wet hands over the cheeks, pulls them apart, squeezing. “I can’t help it, Anty,” he purrs, and Tony feels his breath ghost over his entrance “your ass is so delectable.”

Tony allows it, because next Ty is working him open with his tongue and Tony is pressing his head into the sheets. “Ty,” he moans “fuck, Ty.”

The other man presses in further, fucking his tongue in and out of Tony’s hole. Tony loves this, or maybe he hates it, he doesn’t know. Point being, he’s here, and he’s with Ty, and this is, this is what he needs because it isn’t Steve or Pepper or any other warm body it’s just Ty and he’s soft and familiar and well worn, like a coat you shrug back on after a season kept in a closet.

Tony hears the click of handcuffs before he registers the feel of metal on his wrists. He blinks, tugs experimentally. “Ty?” He asks “Ty, what — ”

“Just like old times,” Ty purrs in his ear, and Tony sinks back into the bed, hitches his hips a little higher, arms flexing behind his back.

“Asshole.” Tony breathes, cheek rubbing against the cotton of the sheets beneath him.

“You love it, though.” Ty says, and Tony feels the slick wetness of his fingers as they tease down his ass.

“C’mon,” Tony says, bucking “hurry up, stop trying to be sexy it doesn’t work anymore.”

Ty clutches tight at one of Tony’s cheeks, nails digging deep. “That’s not nice.”

Tony gives a grunt of frustration, tries to roll over. He doesn’t have time for this. Ty can fuck him, or he can leave. They had a deal.

Ty keeps him firm on his belly, probing at his entrance. He slides the tip of one finger in, and then works it out. “You’re loose.” He notes, and there’s something else in his tone.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Isn’t it?” Ty says mildly, working in another finger and stretching him with both. “Seems like it might be.”

“You’ll fuck me anyway.”

“This is true.” And Tony hears Ty grin.

He hears the buzzing.

Tony groans. “C’mon,” he says, wriggling “no, Ty. Just fuck me, I haven’t got time for all of this.”

“‘All?’” Ty asks “You’re acting as if I’m bringing out the Moulin Rouge. Just sit still and enjoy.”

Tony tsks behind his teeth, irritation building in his temples. He always does this, Ty always fucking does this, brings something out at the last minute. Christ, it’s impossible to trust him with anything.

The toy is small, round, a bullet. Ty clicks it off and slowly presses it deep inside. “How’s that feel?”

Tony pants, shifting slightly, not realising he’d been holding his breath. “Just,” he squirms “a little deeper.”

Ty chuckles, because Tony is always so easy to win over, and he tips it just the slightest bit further. Tony gasps.

“There,” he says, and then he groans “fuck yes, there.”

He hears the strap holding the battery being ripped, velcro, and the tightened high up his thigh. He tugs at his handcuffs, grinds at the pillow beneath his hips.

“You ready?” Ty says, and he doesn’t wait for a response, just presses it on.

The toy comes to life in Tony’s ass and he gasps, it’s vibrating right against his prostate, so he has to shift, press back his hips, breath hitching.

He moans.

“Ugh, God,” he says, face sliding against the sheets “God, how long?”

Ty shrugs. “Whenever. I’m gonna order room service.”

Tony tries to sit up, but his hands are bound and the toy is still twitching deeply inside him. “No, you’re fucking not.”

“Relax, Anty,” Ty purrs “just some wine. I won’t let them see you, baby.”

He dabbles his fingers down Tony’s thigh and he shivers. “Ty,” he says, voice plaintive.

“Too early to beg, Tony.”

“I thought it was never too early to beg?”

“Only when you’re losing.”

Tony rolls his eyes, the change in angle making the toy press against him to the point of painful. “You call this — ah, you call this winning?”

“Not yet.” Ty says, and he leaves to order.

Alone, Tony allows himself to moan. He arches, fucks his hips onto the pillow, but not getting the relief or angle he needs. The toy is vibrating deep inside him, right on his sweet spot, and it’s too much. It wouldn’t surprise Tony is Ty left him here until he came just from the feel.

He hitches his knees onto the bed, presses his ass up, and gasps, the new angle means the toy has shifted, it’s pressing straight onto his prostate and hard and Tony picks up his head, wriggles his hips, feels the wire dragging against his thigh, and then presses his cheek into the sheets.

“Yes,” he breathes “yes, yes, there — ”

He moans again, he could easily stay like this, just let the pressure build until he’s coming. He grinds himself into the bed, breath hitching, and the presses back up. So perfect. Pleasure starting deep inside his belly and starting to build to something more.

By the time Ty gets back, he’s drooling. 

His thighs tremble. “Ty,” he moans “c’mon, Ty.”

He hears a chuckle. “You just hold it out, Tony. Just be patient.”

He vaguely registers the sound of something ripping, assumes it’s Ty, assumes he’s finally taking off his clothes, but then his head is wrenched back.

“I need you to know that this is honestly nothing personal.”

Material pressed into his mouth and then thick silver tape stretched over his lips, plastered down. 

Tony’s eyes widen in shock. He bucks, stupid fucking asshole, he’s such a fucking idiot, what’s happening, why is Ty —

The tape is wound round his mouth again, all the way back to his head and over, wrapped around his face again and again until he can’t twitch a single lip. He shouts behind it, shouts what, for help? Who would hear him, and the only other person is Ty and he’s —

More tape, this time on his wrists, and Tony hears where the handcuffs are thrown to the ground, redundant, because now his entire forearms are taped tight.

He screams again, throws his head into the bed and bucks, kicking.

Oh God.

He’s such an idiot.

Who is Ty working for? Who paid him? The toy is still twitching deep inside him and Tony tries to bite down the feeling, that feeling, of being completely and utterly beaten.

Another cry of frustration and Ty eases the toy out of his ass. “Slow, Tony. Calm down.”

Tony kicks back and has the satisfaction of his foot meeting with hard skin and a cry of pain.

“Don’t be a little bitch about it.” Ty says. “You’re done. Just let it happen.”

The tower. The opening. He’s going to miss it, he’s going to miss the fucking opening and Ty —

The Avengers. His team. They — they’ll notice he’s gone.

But he’s been gone a lot, lately, hasn’t he. Would they honestly think that he’d skip his own opening gala? That he could do something so stupid and thoughtless and selfish?

Does it matter?

Tony fights harder. He feels his eyes prickle but won’t give in, because crying means he’s lost, officially, and that can’t happen.

Ty has slide his briefs back on. How very kind of him.

“Easy, Tony.” He says, exhaling. “Take it easy.”

He rolls Tony onto his front while he gasps through his nose, tries to break the tape, kicks. Ty just sits on his legs, breaks out more silver tape, and binds his knees, and then his ankles.

“I mean it, Tony,” Ty says, resting his hand on Tony’s thigh “this isn’t personal, okay? You know that.”

Tony curses behind the gag.

“People need you out of the picture,” Ty says, tracing his nipple “but they need you alive. Why bother with troublesome kidnappings when you could pay someone you trust?” Ty sighs. “I’m not going to hurt you, Tony. You don’t need to freak out on me.”

Tony isn’t. He’s not. He is calm, calm, calm, and there’s an anger building so tight behind his flesh that he can feel it writhe.

“HYDRA, Tony. I think you know that, already, but,” Ty sighs “they want what they want. It doesn’t concern me. I’m home-free. But I need the money, and,” gently, he pushes a lock of Tony’s hair behind his ear “they’re throwing you in as part of the package. They need you alive, just in case. But if not, you’re mine, now.”

Ty is insane.

How did Tony never see it before? All the parties all the drinking all the drugs, the manipulation, and Tony fell for it hook line and sinker, always so desperate for a friend and Ty had seen that, the very first time they talked, two little boys and one so so scared and Ty had seen that and taken it and built on it.

“I know, it’s surprising, maybe,” Ty makes a face “to you, anyway. But it shouldn’t matter, really. I don’t care what HYRDA does, Tony, I care about you."

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are GREATLY APPRECIATED and if you have any questions or prompts find me on MY NEW writing blog [romanoff](http://writingromanoff.tumblr.com/)


End file.
